


look what you made of me

by glorious_spoon



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Dubious Consent, Fuck Or Die, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Other, Overstimulation, Tentacle Sex, Tentacles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2021-01-05 18:54:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21213431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glorious_spoon/pseuds/glorious_spoon
Summary: He would do much weirder things than this to keep Magnus alive.(Or: Alec discovers a new kink under the worst possible circumstances.)





	look what you made of me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lynne_monstr](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lynne_monstr/gifts).

> ....look, this is basically just filthy dub-con tentacle smut, and porn logic should be applied to any and all events in this fic. Written for day 28 of Tentacletober: fuck or die tentacles.

The door swings shut behind Catarina, and Alec bites down hard on the bubble of slightly hysterical laughter before it can escape. Magnus already looks freaked out enough, and there’s not much that freaks him out. Not like this. Not when it’s just the two of them in a slightly stuffy underground room with no danger to be seen outside of the summoning circle that Magnus is currently trapped inside of.

Magnus, and the semi-sentient demonic energy that attached itself to him to slowly drain him of his life force. Unless Alec can give it another focus.

Hopefully, Cat thought to put a soundlessness charm on the door on her way out. Magnus is a little tied up at the moment. Literally and figuratively.

“Well,” Alec says, when he can finally trust himself to speak. His voice comes out slightly uneven, jagged edges of laughter or possibly hysteria. “This is a new one.”

“For me, too.” Magnus shrugs tightly and the dark mass of—well, of _tentacles_ coiling around his body shifts too, curling and uncurling like a corona of black smoke. There are enough of them that Alec can’t get an accurate count, and the fact that they keep flickering in and out of existence doesn’t help. Dozens, at least. Magnus’s face seems pale, although that might just be the uncertain light; his glamour is down, his eyes wide, tracking Alec warily as he steps closer. “I can’t ask you to do this.”

Alec rolls his eyes. “This isn’t even remotely the weirdest thing I would do to keep you alive.”

“That’s reassuring,” Magnus mutters. The note of dry sarcasm in his voice is a relief to hear even though he still looks tired and afraid. Afraid for Alec, not for himself, even though he’s the one who’ll die if they dither about this too long. Alec has no plans of doing that. “I mean it, Alexander. I can’t control them. This could hurt you—_will_ hurt you, almost certainly. We can find another way.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Alec tells him exasperatedly. He steps into the circle inlaid on the stone floor before Magnus can argue any more. The mass of smoke-like tentacles uncoil toward him the moment he’s inside. They’re not fully corporeal, not yet, but if he understood Cat’s hurried, awkward explanation, that’ll change in a hurry now that he’s inside the circle.

Something insubstantial licks over his exposed skin as one of the tentacles brushes over his shoulder and arm. Magnus twitches slightly, like he can feel that too. “Alec—”

“It’ll be fine,” Alec says, with more confidence than he really feels, and tugs his shirt off over his head. This time, when the tentacle coils up over his arms, it feels more substantial. It’s a tickling slide of electricity and friction, and as Alec watches, Magnus’s mouth falls open slightly, his eyes fluttering shut. 

Magnus _can_ feel it, then, even if he can’t control them. That makes Alec feel a little better about the reaction he’s having to all this, which is probably quite a bit less reluctant determination than the situation calls for.

He’s determined, anyway. But it’s better if it’s something they’re at least sort of doing together instead of something just _happening_ to him while Magnus watches.

The tentacle is curled around his arms in a way that would be restrictive if it was fully corporeal, but since it isn’t—yet—he doesn’t have any trouble undoing his belt and the button on his jeans and shoving them off along with his underwear. He tosses his clothes outside the circle to stand naked in front of Magnus and the flickering mass of tentacles that is becoming more real by the second. This time, when one of them coils up his leg from mid-calf to mid-thigh he can feel the texture of it, smoother than skin and faintly slick in a way that feels like it’s leaving residue behind even though he knows it’s not.

It probably shouldn’t be hot, but it is. His heart is pounding, adrenaline racing through him. He’s half-hard, and when the tentacle slips up higher Magnus lets out a soft, ragged sound that gets him the rest of the way there in a hurry. His body is too obscured for Alec to tell if he's getting hard, but going by that sound he'd bet on it. Alec swallows a groan, and Magnus’s eyes snap open, wide and slightly wild. He reaches out toward Alec, but the tentacles are solid now, holding them apart enough that his fingertips just barely brush Alec’s abdomen.

He’s flushed, that sickly pallor gone. His golden eyes flicker over Alec’s face, then down his naked body, lingering on his hard cock.

“Oh,” he says softly. His eyes flick back toward Alec’s face. The expression there isn’t judgmental, but Alec flushes all the same.

“I mean,” he says. “It’s you.”

Magnus breathes out half of a laugh as the tentacle wrapped around Alec’s thigh slides up with slow deliberate purpose. There are more of them now, wrapping around his abdomen and his wrists, the suggestion of restraints. One curls briefly around his throat before loosening to slide up over his jaw. “Not entirely.”

“Close enough.” He’s not actually completely sure about that part, but when the tentacle coiled up his jaw brushes over his lips he opens his mouth to let it in, and at the press of his lips and tongue Magnus shudders all over. The sound that escapes him is one that Alec’s only ever heard when he’s on his knees, so—yeah.

Close enough.

It doesn’t feel like sucking a cock. The shape is all wrong, for one thing, the texture, and there’s an electric flicker of magic against his tongue and the inside of his mouth that sends a wash of dizziness rolling through him. That’s good, though. That means this is working.

Tentacles wrap around his thighs and pull his legs apart with effortless strength, unbalancing him until he’s crashing to his knees—or he would be, if he wasn’t caught by the roiling mass of them before he can hit the floor. The tentacle in his mouth pulses, expanding, a slick bitter secretion coating his tongue, but it doesn’t retract or soften. He can feel it scraping against his teeth, the narrow head pushing at the back of his throat and then farther in. It pulses again when he swallows around it.

“Alec,” Magnus breathes, “Alec, Alec,” voice unsteady, and the hand that sifts through his hair is unsteady too. Alec wants to lean into the touch but he’s pinned like this, his knees spread on the stone floor, half a dozen tentacles coiled around his thighs. His cock is heavy between his legs. He feels unbalanced, both turned on and more than a little unnerved, and he wants the reassurance of Magnus’s hands, but an instant later he’s pulled back by that coiling mindless strength, shoved down until his cheek is against the cool stone floor. The tentacle in his mouth slips back out briefly, a slick drag on his tongue, then in again, gagging him until tears spring to his eyes.

Magnus swears breathlessly, but it seems distant. He seems distant. The entire world does.

A heavy lassitude rolls through him. It’s all that keeps him from tensing instinctively when one of the tentacles slides up between his legs, licks briefly over his perineum, then slips back and in. It’s narrow, more like fingers than a cock, but the way it moves isn’t like either of those things, a slick flexible coil that twists as it enters him until it’s pushing against his prostate. Alec chokes out a groan around the thick tentacle still in his mouth. His head is spinning, only partly because it’s hard to get a full breath like this. He feels weak, dizzy, hot all over. Distantly aware of what he must look like now, that Magnus is seeing him like this: pinned, spread open and fucked from both ends.

That Magnus can feel all this too.

That thought barely has time to dawn before another tentacle slips between his legs to curl around his cock. Alec groans around the tentacle in his mouth and the one wrapped around his cock flexes slightly, squeezing him from root to tip, then slides higher, the narrow tip of it dipping just inside his slit, and he comes so hard that the world goes black around the edges.

It takes him a long time to come back to himself, dazed and shaking. He’s still pinned on the floor, tentacles wrapped around his wrists and thighs, his legs spread so wide it’s almost painful. The tentacle in his ass slips out slightly, then in again, and there are more of them now, twisting up his thighs and pushing slickly at his hole. A second one slides inside him, then a third, pulsing and twining. Alec jerks slightly as a fourth tentacle starts to push past his rim, and the ones wrapped around his arms and legs tighten until he can’t move at all, can’t even try to pull away, can’t do anything other than lie there and take it.

They’re not that thick, but with four of them in him he’s stretched wider than he ever has been, and it _hurts_. The tentacle in his mouth finally slips out, but he can’t speak; it’s all he can do to gasp wetly, dragging air into his lungs. His cheeks and chin are smeared with saliva and tears and the residue of the tentacle’s release. It flicks over his cheek, almost curious. Like it’s tasting the wetness there.

He’s starting to get hard again. His head is spinning and he feels like he’s being spit open, so full that it aches, but somehow he’s starting to get hard. The groan that escapes his throat is low and ragged and he can barely hear it over the pounding in his ears, the slick sounds of tentacles sliding in and out of him. Another one coils around his oversensitive cock, squeezing as it starts to lengthen.

Alec sobs out another ragged noise, plea or negation or both. He thinks he hears Magnus speaking his name, but that lassitude is washing over him again, waves of magic sapping the strength from his body, leaving him limp and dazed. He’s not even trying to struggle now, just lies there as he’s fucked and stroked, the slippery tentacle wrapped around his dick jerking him off until it drags another orgasm from him. This time, the blackness doesn’t leave his vision afterward. It closes inward instead, the world narrowing to a single point of dim light and then disappearing entirely as the writhing mass of tentacles starts to pulse hotly inside him.

There’s a rush of wet heat and magic prickling over his skin, and everything slips away into darkness.

*

He wakes up naked on the cold stone floor, warm hands patting over him. Familiar hands. Alec groans, rolling into the touch, and above him Magnus says, “Oh, thank god.”

It’s a quick tumble of words, but the note of worry underneath is what wakes him the rest of the way up. Magnus is leaning over him, glamour down, eyes dilated in the gloom. Alec lifts a hand to pat at his face clumsily. “Hey.”

His voice comes out rough. His mouth feels bruised. His whole body feels bruised, actually, new aches making themselves known as he shifts. His wrists and thighs are tender and he’s aching and wet with his own spend and whatever the tentacles left on him. And in him. Loose and sore and fucked stupid.

Magnus looks worried and naked and slightly bruised, but he also looks like _him._ Just him. Bare skin and golden eyes and no vast coiling darkness to be seen. He catches Alec’s hand, brings it to his mouth in a quick kiss, then says, “We should get you checked out. You were almost completely drained by the time it released us.”

“Okay,” Alec slurs, but he doesn’t move. He’s pretty sure he _can’t_ move. Magnus hooks an arm under his shoulders to pull him upright, and Alec tilts against him, noses at his jaw. From this angle, he can see bruised crescent marks on Magnus’s thighs, like he was digging his fingernails in deep. His bare belly is shiny with sweat and come. Alec blinks slowly. “Huh. So, you could feel—”

“Everything.” Magnus sounds guilty, of all things, which is just all wrong.

“Stoppit. Better if—” He fumbles for the right words, dragging them out of his fuzzy brain. “If you were there with me.”

“Alexander…” It comes out on a sigh. “You could have been seriously hurt.”

“I wasn’t.”

“Still.”

“Magnus, ‘s fine. I’m fine.” He’d definitely do much more traumatic things than this to save Magnus’s life. Has, in fact, although he’s pretty sure that pointing that out right now would be unhelpful. He presses a clumsy kiss to the corner of Magnus’s jaw instead, then adds, only half-joking, “Too bad you can’t manifest those things under your control.”

Magnus goes very still against him. He’s quiet long enough that Alec almost tries to lift his head, then rolls his shoulder slightly and pulls Alec closer. “I—could. Actually.”

“Huh,” Alec says again, and this time he does manage to lift his head. Magnus is looking at him from inches away, his eyes golden and warm, and that’s… certainly an idea. “Really?”

“Yeah, really.” Magnus peers at him, then finally, finally smiles. “Not anytime soon, though. You need rest, and medical attention, and probably a healing rune while you’re at it. And maybe later—_much_ later—we will have that conversation. Along with one about that reckless streak of yours.”

“Yeah, okay,” Alec sighs, but he puts his head down on Magnus’s shoulder instead of trying to stand, and Magnus doesn’t pull away.


End file.
